


Star of the East

by OrionLady



Series: Zaichik (Little Star) [3]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Christmas, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nerf weapons, Recovery, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-21 19:54:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20698994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrionLady/pseuds/OrionLady
Summary: When Bones invites Chekov to his family manor for Christmas, Pavel readily agrees. Bones intends to spoil him rotten. But memories are not so easily left behind and the navigator gets more than he bargained for. A child’s pretend play soon becomes a cage.





	1. Chapter 1

_And the star, which they had seen in the east, went on before them until it came and stood over the place where the Child was. _~Matthew 2:9

The casserole dish was warm in his lap, matching his flushed cheeks.

Beside him, in the driver’s seat, a gruff voice asked, “You ready? It’s just around this field.”

“Da.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“You sure?”

“Nope.”

Bones looked worriedly at the twiggy figure in his passenger seat. “It’s Christmas, son, not prison.”

Silence. The harsh sound of swallowing.

“Pavel?”

Chekov took a few deep breaths. “Sorry. I’ve just never done…” He flapped his hand. “Done this before. Not on this scale or…in this fancy of a place.”

They pulled into a circular drive way. Bones shut off the engine. Navigator and CMO stared up at the colonial style manor.

_More like mansion_, Pavel thought with another gulp. His grip tightened around the dish. He jumped when a hand squeezed the nape of his neck.

Bones smiled. “I’ll be with you the whole time. I’m proud to have you with me. You, of all people, deserve a restful Christmas.”

He smoothed a thumb over the bruises around Chekov’s collarbone and Pavel closed his eyes. Wordlessly, he soaked in the rough, large paw and careful touch.

“Come on,” said Bones. “I’ve got the gifts.”

They climbed the porch and Bones tapped a bronze knocker.

“It’s so old,” said Pavel. “So beautiful.”

“I grew up here.” Bones hefted the box of presents. “This estate has been passed down for generations—”

“Oh, my boys!” The door swung open to reveal a squat woman in a glittery apron. Her silver ringlets quivered in time with her raucous laughter.

“Len! How are you?” She took Bone’s face in her wrinkly hands and kissed his cheek. “How’s our galaxy these days?”

Bones rolled his eyes, returning the hug. “As peaceful as ever, Ma.”

Pavel couldn’t pick his ‘o’ of surprise off the floor. He stuttered into a quick bow. “Mrs. McCoy, it eez an honor to—”

“And you must be Pavel!” She tugged him into a warm embrace and pecked his cheek. She smelled of ginger and Vaseline. “I’ve heard so much about you. And call me Alice, please.”

She held him at arm’s length. “That won’t do. We must get some food into that scarecrow body of yours. Leonard, have you been starving this poor dear?”

“No, Ma,” said Bones. “Our flat was always fully stocked.”

Alice ushered them inside. “You’re the last to arrive. Make yourself at home, Pavel. Everyone’s so thrilled you’re here.”

In the end, it was the doctor’s guiding hand on Pavel’s back that got him through the door. Chekov gasped at the high ceiling, polished balustrades, and rows of family portraits.

_You could fit the whole first floor of our farmhouse in this foyer._

The austere paintings, however, didn’t compare to cheery faces that chorused their greetings to Pavel. He realized their excitement was genuine.

There were so many great aunts and uncles and Bones’ cousins and children of children that Pavel couldn’t keep names straight. They didn’t seem to mind. They pumped his hand and winked at him, several younger ones delighted with his accent.

Chekov wondered how much Bones had told them. They were gentle with his ribs and not one raised his or her voice above a chatter.

Luggage was moved up the grand staircase and presents put under a massive fir tree in the living room. The family milled about, some still hugging Pavel and Bones.

Until at last a little girl stood in front of the navigator, staring up at him with wide eyes. She wore a festive red dress stained with peanut butter.

“Uh, hello,” said Pavel.

“Wow,” said the little girl.

Pavel shifted. He glanced at Bones, but the man was distracted trying to help his mother hang a wreath on the door.

Pavel searched the girl’s face. The eyes, up close, were instantly familiar. He’d seen them every day for the last three years.

“J…Joanna?” Pavel guessed.

Her face lit up. “I’ve never had a brother before! I’ve never had _any_ siblings. Does Daddy make you pancakes shaped like a unicorn too?”

Pavel laughed. At the sudden sound, Bones’ head whipped around the door. He looked like a deer caught in floodlights. Which of course only made Pavel snort harder.

Joanna recovered first. “Dad!”

Bones caught her in time, before she face planted on the entry carpet. “I though you and Mum weren’t coming until Christmas Eve.”

“We couldn’t wait until _tomorrow_,” the girl protested. “That’s a whole day away!”

“Unfathomable,” said Bones. “How would you have survived a whole day?”

Joanna swatted his arm. “Wanna see my report card? I’m ahead in some subjects—I’m doing grade five math!”

“How I got stuck with you whiz kids, I’ll never know,” said Bones, mock groaning.

Joanna giggled. Pavel smiled, hands in his pockets. He didn’t expect it when Bones turned to him, eyes intensely fond, and mouthed a ‘thank you.’

Pavel had no idea what the gratitude was for, but he nodded. He leaned his head back against the wall and felt, for the first time since Grandpapa died, that he didn’t have to be vigilant.

* * *

“You did well today.”

“It vas overwhelming,” Chekov admitted. “But in a nice kind of way.”

Bones looked up from his suitcase. The boy now stood in pajama sweats and a Beatles T-shirt. Ever since Bones had given it to him as a welcome-to-our-trashy-flat gift, more a joke than solemn token, Pavel hardly took it off.

“Let me show you your room,” said Bones.

It was right beside Bones’ room, as per his request.

“This is ornate!” Pavel did a slow circle, plopping his bag on the corner table. “Sank you.”

Bones put a hand on his hip. “This was my childhood room, if you can believe it. The history of this wing is actually quite interesting. My great-great grandmother…”

A long snore met his ears. Pavel lay on his side. He hadn’t even bothered to pull the covers over himself. Bones chuckled. He covered him with the quilts and ruffled the messy curls. Pavel didn’t stir, lean face free of tension.

Bones’ eyes softened. He pulled a chair beside the bed and let his hand rest in the honey mop.

“You have such an open heart,” he whispered. “Bigger than even I realized. You weren’t put off by Jo at all. You treated her like royalty and I’m so…” Bones swallowed. “So proud.”

His thumb grooved slow circles over Pavel’s scalp.

“Joanna is my daughter…”

But Pavel filled something in Bones’ heart, his achy spirit, that even Joanna couldn’t.

Bones lifted the youth’s fringe, unconsciously checking for injury and the goose egg at his hairline that was only just starting to heal.

Pavel whimpered.

“It’s alright. You’re okay.” Bones shook his head. “I’m getting soft.”

* * *

“See, Ma likes to have her big dinner Christmas Eve so that Christmas day is laid back, informal.”

“Makes sense,” said Chekov, following Bones out the back door. “Is this vhy she asked us to chop the vood?”

“Ha!” Bones clapped his gloved hands. “You bet. She’s kicked everyone out for the morning while she cooks. Jo and her mom won’t be back until tomorrow. Something about work.”

Chekov, brow furrowed, craned his head back. He opened his mouth and then closed it.

“What?” asked Bones.

“The colonial house, it…it doesn’t _have _a working fireplace.”

Bones whistled. “You’re observant. And correct—this chimney’s been boarded up for over a century.”

Chekov eyed the ax Bones had retrieved from the shed. “Then vhy are we chopping wood? No one uses that for fuel anymore.”

_Surely even in Texas they don’t_.

Bones confirmed this with a wink. “Who said this wood is for burning?”

Chekov, knowing better than to ask, kept quiet. After the doctor had cut the stripped logs, he handed Pavel a belt sander.

“I cut. You smooth.” And he went back to work.

They toiled through the morning, until Chekov’s green shirt looked black and sweat dripped down his nose. He switched off the sander to see Bones on his knees and hear the sharp crackle of a hammer. He stared at the boards, now shaped into a small hut, no higher than his waist. A wooden trough sat under the roof. Bones hammered a five pointed shape onto the crown of the roof.

_It’s not a hut_.

Chekov’s eyes sparked with wonder. “A nativity?”

Bones set down the hammer. “No McCoy Christmas is complete without one.”

Chekov fingered the wood shaving Bones had placed for “straw.” “Where are the people? The animals?”

“You’ll see tomorrow,” said Bones.

Chekov couldn’t stop running his hands over the fresh pine. It stilled the thumping of his heart.

“Reminds me of the farm,” he said softly.

Bones patted his shoulder. “I know. I’m so sorry you lost…this is your first Christmas without…”

“No. I didn’t lose it—or them.” Pavel exhaled a long breath. “They’re still with me.”

Bones kept his hand at the nape of Chekov’s neck, rubbing his clavicle. They drank in the beauty of their labor.

“I can smell you from here!” called a voice.

Pavel startled and Bones rumbled a soothing “easy” until he calmed.

Alice stood on the back steps. “I hope you’re not planning on coming to the table like that!”

“Right on time,” said Bones, hoisting Pavel to his feet. Louder, “It’s ready, Ma!”

* * *

By the time Chekov showered and came downstairs, the long dining table was full—and noisy. He squeezed into a seat between Bones and a woman who insisted, “call me Aunt Marge!” even though Pavel knew Bones had no siblings.

Alice said grace and the first thing Pavel saw upon opening his eyes was a tray of beans in Bones’ outstretched arm. The doctor waved it under the boy’s nose.

“Eat. You’re _still _ten pounds too thin, though how that’s possible with Jim’s fried wings obsession in our apartment, I’ll never know.”

Ducking his head, Pavel obliged the grousing CMO.

“It’s partly my fault,” Bones added, “but I’m a doctor not a cook.”

“I hear that’s more your specialty, Mr. Chekov,” said Alice.

“Oh, ah, I like cooking.” Pavel threw a quick glare at Bones when he scooped three epic globs of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “It’s a…familiar task. I’ve been cooking since I was toddling height.”

Alice frowned at Bones and he shook his head. Her eyes filled with worry and a touch of sorrow.

Pavel held up a pacifying hand. “I enjoy it very much, fear not. Cooking is community, my Babu always said.”

“Too true. Which reminds me,” said Alice. “You didn’t wear a hat _or _gloves outside. Keep that up and you’ll freeze!”

Bones snickered. Pavel hid a smile in his turkey.

_This is swimsuit weather_.

“Not for Texas,” said Bones, reading his thoughts.

“It must be very cold in Russia,” piped one relative across the table.

Pavel’s ears flushed, but he answered all their questions. Everyone made him feel included.

Dish after dish was passed around, children threading behind his chair and over his legs. Pavel, once freed from being the center of conversation, set down his fork with a shaking hand. He could barely see the table under impressive amounts of food. Mentally, he calculated how many hours of fieldwork the vegetables and fruits and meat dishes would have taken.

_And here it is, right for me to eat._

“Dessert!” cheered a little boy, tugging at Pavel’s sleeve. “Have you ever had triple berry pie before?”

“No,” said Chekov. Belatedly, he realized the plates had been cleared. “I can’t say I have…”

He stared at the children and adults now milling freely about the room. He ran a hand across his eyes.

Suddenly, his face lost all colour.


	2. Chapter 2

Bones rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you where we are on a given mission because—”

“It’s classified.” Alice tapped his chin. “I know, sweetie. A mother worries, that’s all. With good reason. Look at what happened just this October.”

“Yeah.” Bones winced. “That was ten years of my life I’ll never get back.”

_The only reason I’m alive at all is thanks to a genius teenager who lives to give me grey hairs…_

“Pavel?”

The seat next to Bones was vacant. He twisted to search the room. His brows drew together.

“Excuse me, Ma.”

She clutched his arm. “Is he alright?”

“I’m not sure,” Bones admitted, so quiet he barely heard himself.

Bones drew little attention, searching each room on the first floor. Away from the celebrations, the world quieted. A glass clinked.

Bones tracked the sound to the kitchen. He paused in the doorway, gathering his wits at Chekov, drying towel in hand, putting dishes away from the drying rack. The doctor took one of the stools at the island. He clasped his fingers at his lips, elbows on the counter.

Pavel seemed not to notice, methodical and practiced in his ablution. First the bowls. Then he put away the cutlery. Coils tumbled into his eyes. Over bloodless skin.

Bones let ten minutes slip by. Twelve. Fifteen.

“Pavel?”

_Clink_. Now the cups.

“Pavel Chekov? Don’t make me crack out that middle name.”

A vein pulsed in Pavel’s jaw. He tensed.

_There we go_.

The navigator averted his eyes. Now the gravy boat. He gave it a few drying swipes.

“Pavel, hey. Look at me.”

Pavel skittered out of arm’s reach. Bones instantly put up both hands. He lowered his tone.

“Son?”

Pavel stopped. Back to Bones, he braced both hands on the sink. The towel fell to the floor.

“We’re a strange bunch,” said Bones, almost whispering. “I’m sorry if the kids were annoying or in-laws reminded you of things you’d rather left alone.”

“It’s okay,” said Pavel. “It wasn’t that. Actually, the experience was rather nice.”

“I’m an only child. So are you. We have to stick together against the in-laws.”

That earned Bones a hesitant smile. Bones matched it with a grin of his own. Pavel stepped closer. Bones sat motionless, hands visible. A few inches closer…until Pavel, still rigid, sank onto the neighboring bar stool.

“Do you regret agreeing to come?” asked Bones. “Letting me drag you to the deep South for a week?”

Chekov huffed a laugh through his nose. “Not for a second.” His face fell. “I just…that food, all the homemade dishes, it’s…”

Carefully, Bones placed a hand over Pavel’s on the counter top. The boy slid sideways. His temple rested on Bones’ shoulder.

“Sorry,” Pavel blurted.

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I am being a damper, ruining the good mood.”

“I’m pretty sure no one even noticed your sneaky exit,” said Bones. “This is new for you. Have you even had a real Christmas before today? A feast, I mean?”

Chekov didn’t move for so long that Bones’ sadness turned to concern. He brought a hand around to cup the boy’s head.

“No,” said Chekov at last. “Your table represents a year’s worth of food for my grandparents, maybe more. We didn’t usually…celebrate a lot of Christmas because we couldn’t afford it. I have never seen so much food or treats in my life. For a moment all I saw was work I did as a child. I couldn’t handle…”

Pavel struggled. “_I _feel like the alien in your world.”

Bones smirked. “An apt analogy.”

_But you’re not. You belong here—with me_.

When had this petite Russian become home more than his childhood house?

Bones shook himself. Standing, he retrieved the towel off the floor and handed it to Pavel.

Pavel blinked. “I dried them all.”

“We still have dessert trays, my good man.”

Bones set to washing, up to his elbows in suds, while Chekov dried. Just the two of them. Just like any other night. Pavel visibly unwound. He even hummed a few notes at one point. Bones grinned, dunking the last cobbler pan.

“Where is your father?”

Bones dropped the pan with a clatter. Bubbles puffed into the air. Some landed in his ears.

“Sorry!” Pavel backpedaled. “That was rude and out of line.”

“No. I don’t mind.” Bones recovered with a gasp. “Just wasn’t expecting it, is all. My father died almost a decade ago.”

“Vhat was he like?”

“Aloof…but a good provider. Fiercely loyal though he rarely said it.”

“Zat is hard,” said Pavel, nodding.

Bones looked at him in surprise. “It was. He never raised his voice, unlike my half Irish mother, but then he didn’t talk at all, really. It’s why I vowed to be affectionate with my own kids.”

Bones pretended not to see Pavel’s frown of confusion or his barely whispered, “Kids? _Kids_?”

The doctor smiled to himself.

* * *

“It. Is. _Christmas_!”

Pavel awoke to a thump on his chest. The world lurched up and down. It took him two endless minutes to open his eyes and even longer to focus on a girl, braids and all, jumping up and down on the bed.

“Joanna?” he groaned. “What happened to peace on Earth?”

“‘Vel! It’s Christmas morning and there are presents under the big tree!” She leaned in, conspiring. “Maybe my Nerf bow and arrow are there—like I asked for!”

“A very wise choice of gift,” said Chekov, throwing on a fuzzy sweater, three sizes too big because he’d filched it from Bones.

_I’ll return it soon_, Pavel lied to himself.

“Come _on_, ‘Vel!”

Joanna tugged his hand. Families had already gathered on low couches in front of the Goliath tree. Bones sat in the corner of one, frowning into the dregs of his coffee mug.

“What did you ask for?” Joanna hopped at Pavel’s side.

Pavel ruffled the girl’s hair with a chuckle. “Nothing. I don’t need anything.”

“That’s too bad because I got you…” Bones glanced up only for his sharp eyes to cloud at Pavel’s fumbling steps and bleary face. “Jo? Did you wake him up? I thought we discussed keeping our voices down.”

Joanna gasped. “I forgot!”

“It’s okay,” said Chekov. “If I had known you were all going to wait for me before opening gifts, I vould have set an alarm.”

“Nonsense.” Bones gently pulled at the sweater until Pavel sat beside him. “It’s a rule. And you need all the sleep you can get.”

Feet tucked under him, shy but content against Bones’ side, Pavel nibbled a breakfast biscuit and watched children open shimmering packages. Husbands passed boxes to wives, sisters to brothers.

Feeling Pavel practically vibrating, Bones massaged the hand hidden in the wide sleeves. When this failed to work, the doctor snaked an arm around the teen. Pavel felt the paw at his ribs and stilled.

“Not used to shrieking children, huh?” Bones gripped him tighter. “They’re just like the Bandi race, only smaller and with more teeth.”

Pavel giggled into his cocoa.

“My bow!” Joanna leapt up and hugged Bones’ neck and then her mother’s, leaning against the door frame. “Thank you! Thank you!”

“Now you can be that archer knight you’re always talking about,” said Bones.

Joanna was already up and pelting people, hissing out sound effects.

“You couldn’t have gotten her that hair dresser doll we talked about?” asked Joanna’s mother.

“There’s always her birthday,” Bones replied, though Pavel wondered at the fact the estranged couple refused to make eye contact. She had no problem staring at Chekov, however.

Before Pavel could dwell on this, Bones was handing him a tall bag. The navigator blinked at it.

“Generally people, you know, _open _presents. I mean, I’m in awe of my wrap job too.”

Pavel nudged him. Peeling back the red tissue paper revealed some kind of game box.

“A chess set?”

Bones tapped the box. “Made of real ebony wood. They’re in the traditional Medieval design too.”

“I love it. Thank you.” An electric razor and fresh clothes were also wrapped at the bottom of the bag.

“I remembered how much you enjoy playing the game,” said Bones, “especially during night shifts. I’m no Sulu, but I thought maybe we could play. Start a new Christmas tradition.”

Pavel’s heart gave a great leap. He smiled so wide it stretched his cheeks.

“You’re on!”

* * *

White pieces littered one side of the board. Pavel hid a smirk behind his hand.

“Sure you’re not cheating?”

“Nyet.”

Bones fingered his lonely queen, guarding his black king alongside a bishop.

“I’ve been playing since I vas small child,” Pavel offered.

“So have I.”

A muffled laugh.

“Mr. Chekov?”

“Doctor?”

“Shut it so I can lose in peace, with the last shreds of my intellectual dignity.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Did your grandfather ever defeat you?”

“Many times, though as I got older we were evenly matched. I more often won.”

“Then I have plenty of time to catch up. Aha!” Bones swept his bishop into Pavel’s remaining rook, only the second key player Bones had eliminated thus far. “Take that!”

“My compliments,” said Pavel. “But you’ve left your queen exposed.”

He took the black queen with his own to the chorus of Bones’ cries. “Check—”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. We haven’t even been playing fifteen minutes!”

“—Mate.”

“What?” Bones palmed his forehead. “I suppose I should be grateful that you didn’t let me win this one like last time. Shame on you, by the way. Took you three games to play me fair.”

Pavel shrugged. “Didn’t seem right to whoop the giver with his own gift.”

A shadow fell over the board. Chekov sat back to see Joanna’s mother. Taut lines caged her ashen lips. Bones flicked his gaze to Pavel.

“Why don’t you head outside for a bit? It’s…crowded…in here.”

“Sure.”

Pavel cast anxious eyes to Bones. The man nodded with a warm smile.

Pavel obeyed and found Joanna on the back steps. Furtive, heated voices became distant. He shut the door against them.

Apparently all the kids had received various Nerf weapons. Half a dozen children battled on the back lawn. Foam projectiles flew past hollering “warriors.”

“Mr. ‘Vel!” They ran to him. “Come be a Starfleet explorer!”

“We’re battling mercenaries,” said one.

“Is it true you visit other planets?” asked another girl.

“And fly a starship?”

“With James Kirk!”

Pavel grinned. “Lots of planets. I’m a navigator.”

“Whasa navigator?”

“He reads coordinates and uses math to get the ship to new galaxies,” said Joanna. “Right, ‘Vel?”

With so many wide eyes trained on Pavel, he felt himself color.

_That star struck wonder was me not so long ago._

“Exactly.” He knelt to their level. “Where are we visiting today?”

“You’ll lead us to their home world,” whispered a small boy. “We have to get past _them_.”

The older children, their “enemy,” giggled and held up weapons. Joanna, on Pavel’s team, raised her bow high—“Charge!”

She led them through the battle zone around the trees and under picnic tables. They crossed a pumpkin patch behind the shed before doubling back. Chekov dutifully “triangulated” where they needed to go next.

_Why did I never have siblings? Bones and I missed out!_

“Time out,” called their enemy.

The group paused for breath.

Chekov helped one boy with his hood and another to tie his shoe. On the enemy side, an older girl had lost her glasses.

“What now?” asked Pavel. He grinned, handing the frames to her.

She thought for a minute. The boy came over, Pavel’s team “weapons expert.”

“We’ve hit an asteroid!” he said.

“Oh no!”

The children mimed being thrown to the ship’s deck.

“And the enemy is taking the opportunity to fire on us!” Joanna added. She pushed Pavel to his knees. “Quick! Get down!”

Chekov’s breathing missed a beat. The girl’s hand pressed on his ribs. Explosive sounds burst over his head and in his ears. Pavel’s vision greyed out. His body felt cold, lungs wet.

_No_.

He sagged. Sounds distorted.

“What did you do?”

“Me? You’re the one who pushed him, Jo!”

“Hey! Don’t hit me!”

Someone sniffled.

“He’s not breathing right.”

“Lips are purple.”

“Should we use my Epi Pen?”

“Mr. McCoy. He’s a doctor! He’ll know what to do.”

“Hurry! I can barely see his eyes now.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So you have time to nurse some coworker back to health, share an apartment with him for two months, but you’re ‘too busy’ for your own daughter?”

“I told you,” said Bones. He stared down the woman across Pavel’s chess set. “We had to stay nearby in case Starfleet gave us new orders. And Pavel was in no condition to be moved—”

“She’s your flesh and blood!”

“And that boy is every bit my child.”

She scoffed. “I heard about the adoption papers. Give Leonard a charity case, that whole orphan spiel, and he finally sticks around!”

Bones refused to match her raised tone. A dangerous, hard glint entered his eye, however. “I’ve made mistakes, I know, but I intend to be there for both Jo _and _Pavel. He has twice the heart you ever showed and he’s never even been cared for properly.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Joanna burst into the room, several youngsters in tow. All spoke over each other and some wailed. Tears stained his daughter’s face.

“We were just playing and the lasers hit and his knees went all wobbly he looked dead and I know you told us not to shout around him but we were only pretending, I didn’t forget—honest. Then he didn’t breathe right and we tried waving a hand in front of his face but…”

When Bones’ brain teased through this, his throat dropped to his shoes. He leapt into action.

“Where?” he barked. “Show me.”

Bones removed his coat from behind the door while jogging outside. A hand clamped around his chest at the sight of a hunched figure amidst the dead grass. Shell shocked. Eyes vacant.

_No_, Bones realized. _Not vacant._

The teen’s pupils, having swallowed his irises, darted, seeing something miles away.

_Light years away_.

“Pavel?”

Bones fell to his knees. A tap to the cheek elicited no response. Bones checked bpm under the jaw. Too slow.

_Catatonic. Trauma—hypo arousal._

The doctor’s mind cataloged this before he’d even taken the next breath.

“Daddy?”

“It’s not your fault, Jo.” Bones never took his eyes off Pavel’s face. “Everyone inside.”

Silence.

“Now, please!”

They filtered away, leaving Bones and Pavel alone. Dusk was falling. Bones quickly wrapped the coat around Pavel. It swamped his frame.

Bones caressed the icy cheek. “You’re not on the ship. You’re safe on Earth—no more blood. No explosions. We made it home.”

Pavel may as well have been a corpse aside from the upright set of his back.

With a broken sigh, Bones scooped the boy into his arms. He lowered himself into a nearby lawn chair, Pavel cradled against his chest. Ear to Bones’ shoulder, legs swung to the side. Bones tilted back to see the stars. They unfurled one by one for the night watch.

“What’s a Christmas without stars?” His chin propped on the boy’s head.

“Just like old times,” he continued. “Look, Pavel. I see your favorite. Orion. He’s got a bow like Joanna. You weigh far too little for a sixteen year old, know that? If we stay here for a while, like I’d hoped, that won’t be a problem. Ma will get you weighing more than my suitcase.”

Pavel’s fingers jerked.

Bones kissed the hair.

He rocked them. Whispered soothing nonsense in the boy’s ear. Night fell yet still Pavel’s eyes shone, by what light Bones had no idea. A tear trailed down his cheek.

Bones saw it and sat up. “Pavel?”

The youth began to quake in his arms. Great, shuddering heaves. They rattled Bones’ teeth.

“Pavel? You with me?”

The voice came out as a flute of wind between trees. Wispy, insubstantial.

“I didn’t catch that, Pavel.”

“Ya dumal, chto umru…”

Bones leaned forward. His eyes widened.

“YA privetstvoval yego,” Chekov murmured. “Chtoby vmeste s moim…mat’ i otets…”

“Russian,” said Bones. “Try again, bud.”

“But then vy prishli vmeste i ... i smert’ ne domoy anymore.”

“Almost there. We’re going for English.”

Stunned quiet. Then—

“B…Bones?”

The doctor, too overcome to speak, gathered him in a desperate, firm hold. Pavel’s shaking worsened. He whimpered.

“Bones?”

“I’m here. You’re safe, son. I’ve got you.”

“Bones?”

The doctor worriedly felt Pavel for injury at the fearful tone, charged with emotion.

“Can’t feel my legs,” said Pavel. “Cold.”

“Let’s get you inside.”

Bones carried the boy over the kitchen threshold and into the living room. Gingerly, he set Pavel down on the carpet. He retrieved several blankets off the couch. After draping them over his son, Bones pressed a button and electric flames—along with a precious burst of heat—crackled at Pavel’s back. He blinked, cringing at what Bones imagined was a wicked case of pins and needles. He rubbed sensation back into Pavel’s legs.

People trickled into the room. Excited prattle flurried over their heads.

Still glazed but more alert, Pavel eyed the nativity being carried in.

Bones crouched at Pavel’s side. “Watch. Here come your animals.”

Children bounded through the door, now in homemade costumes. One shed woolly fur. Another “mooed.” Red tail feathers hung from a boy’s rooster getup. Lastly came a mother and father—Bones’ cousins—in Middle Eastern robes. Another trio carried shepherd staffs. Joanna tripped behind the parade in a halo and angel’s wings. The sound of their caroling swelled.

“_Away in a manger no crib for a bed—_”

“Neigh!” trilled a little girl in her horse costume.

“_The little Lord Jesus laid down His sweet head—_”

“Ba-gock!”

“_The stars in the bright sky look down where He lay…_”

“Moo!”

“_—Asleep on the hay!_”

By the time the crowd gathered around their wooden nativity set, the adults were doubled over with laughter. The children tried to finish the song, hollering over each other, but soon dissolved into giggles.

“Silent night really is a lie,” said Bones with a grin.

A weight settled on Bones’ chest. He looked down to see Pavel’s bushy head and rumbled, carding through the tangled curls.

“Why?” asked Pavel’s hoarse voice. He pointed.

Bones followed his hand to the empty manger. “Well, it would be a pretty depressing ending if Jesus was still there. Never grew up, just stayed a baby. It’s a sign that He’s not there but, err, everywhere. I suck at this stuff, sorry.”

“Why?” Pavel said again, and this time pain dripped from the word. “Why do you want me…I can’t even get Christmas right. I am not what anyone vould care to be strapped with. Why d-do you _want _me?”

Bones bowed his head. His mouth twisted. Then he released Pavel, prying the star off the mini stable. It fit perfectly in Pavel’s palm. He closed the youth’s fingers over it.

“For the same reason we celebrate Christmas and the greatest gift: grace. Grace means getting what we didn’t work for. Something unearned but given freely. I don’t want you because of what you _do _for me, Pavel.” His face softened. “I want you because you’re mine. Because a life with you is infinitely better than without.”

Pavel stared at the pentacle star. He tucked it to his chest. Tears slipped down fresh spots of color in his cheeks.

He smiled. “Merry Christmas.” 

Bones curled forward to press his lips in the cold curls. “Merry Christmas, Pavel.”

**Author's Note:**

> Written December 2015


End file.
